"How embarrassing…"
The words dissolved into the thin winter air as Blake pushed his window wider. Cold rushed in, sharp and bracing, cutting through the stale heaviness of his room.
For two days he had barely left his bed. Two days of crying until his throat burned and his eyes felt scraped raw. Two days replaying that moment over and over: Myles' hand gripping his jaw, the threat in his eyes, the distance in his voice.
His jaw still ached faintly when he touched it.
"I can't believe I skipped school…"
He let his forehead rest against the glass. Cars were threading through traffic, pedestrians bundled up in coats, life continuing without pause.
More than Myles, more than the humiliation, he had been worried about the system.
Since that day, there had been nothing. No pop-ups. No warnings. No ticking countdown clawing at his nerves. The space in his vision where red letters usually pulsed remained blank.
